


Christmas Gifts

by koalathebear



Category: Homeland
Genre: Christmas Fluff, F/M, Fluff, One Shot, Post-Canon, Sappy, Sappy Ending, Stand Alone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-23
Updated: 2013-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-05 18:29:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1097245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/koalathebear/pseuds/koalathebear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set some time after 3.12 The Star.  Completely standalone to any of my other fics.  I also have no idea about timing and what date the commemoration ceremony took place.  I just wanted to write a Homeland Christmas fic.  It's unapologetically sappy and fluffy as you would expect.  Even angsty, tortured Carrie is allowed to have a happy Christmas fic, ok? :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas Gifts

As he looked around, it occurred to Quinn that there was nothing about Carrie's house that indicated that Christmas was fast approaching. Quinn knew he wasn't in a position to judge. His house was even more Spartan and bare than Carrie's at the best of times. It would have seemed extremely strange to have any Christmas decorations.

The two of them had attended various work-related Christmas parties, standing around the edges a little awkwardly, profoundly grateful for the presence of the other. Quinn tended to receive a large number of drunken and sober overtures and invitations which he politely declined to the amusement of Carrie.

Both had sought the assistance of the other for the tortuous office ritual known as Kris Kringle and both had managed to buy adequate, inoffensive gifts that were in keeping with the rules of the tradition.

"Wish I'd have got Lockhart," Carrie had said regretfully.

"That makes the two of us," Quinn had agreed and the two of them had derived much malicious glee from the gift that they would have given to Director Andrew Lockhart had they been fortunate enough to be his Secret Santa.

Carrie's excuse for leaving the Christmas parties early was always that she had a sitter waiting for her. A complete lie given that Maggie and her father would have been happy to babysit for as long as needed. Quinn didn't even bother to give an excuse and tended to disappear around the same time Carrie did – a fact noticed by everyone except Carrie.

The two had just returned from the final Christmas party of the year. The main Agency party and attendance had been considered to be compulsory.

"Damnit, times like this I wish I'd gone to Istanbul anyway," Carrie had muttered as the two of them lurked in a corner behind the table with the mini quiches.

When Javadi had been assassinated by the military only weeks before Carrie's posting had been scheduled to commence, there had been little point in her going. Iran's Revolutionary Guard were in turmoil and two more assassinations later, there was still no clarity about ongoing leadership.

As a result, Carrie had elected to remain at Langley as a 'lowly' analyst, keeping her head down and making sure that she stayed out of trouble and well out of Lockhart's way. To her surprise, Quinn was still around as well despite his earlier intentions to leave the Agency. 

"I'm just a garden variety analyst these days – just like you," he had assured her. Naturally she had been profoundly sceptical of him but he had been quite emphatic.

"I don't need to lie to you, Carrie. I'm done with that."

"How does Dar Adal feel about you beating your sword into a plowshare?"

"And my spear into a pruning hook?" Quinn had asked. "He told me I was no gardener," he lied. In truth, Dar Adal had called him a fucking idiot and accused him of treachery.

"Don't think for a minute Peter that you'll ever be anything other than what I made you." The man had delusions that he was Dr Frankenstein and Quinn his monster. Perhaps once, but no more.

To their surprise, both were rather enjoying the change of pace. Saul had asked them both on more than one occasion if they wanted to join him in the private sector, being disbelieving of their career decisions but both had separately assured him that they were entirely content in their current roles.

"Believe it or not, it's nice not being in constant peril for once," Carrie had told him dryly. Quinn had said something along very similar lines.

Unfortunately, attendance at office Christmas parties was a part of the 'new life' that wasn't quite so enjoyable. "I think your baby is starting to miss you," Quinn had remarked a couple of hours in after they had exchanged endless pleasantries and sampled the finger food until they were fit to burst.

Carrie had raised an eyebrow. "You offering me a lift home?" she questioned him.

"Yes, let's get the fuck out of here," he had said fervently. 

He had driven her to Maggie's house where her daughters Ruby and Josie were on the floor playing with the baby who was rolling around on a blanket and cooing her delight at all the attention. 

"Frank," Quinn had greeted Carrie's father who nodded at him politely from where he had been sitting on the sofa supervising the children. 

"Peter."

"Nice tree, Bill," Quinn had remarked to Maggie's husband who had been arranging the tree in the corner.

"Thanks, the girls helped me pick it out," Bill had responded a friendly smile. A friendly affable man, he was something of a contrast to the edgy Mathisons. "Maggie's in the kitchen."

"No, I have emerged," Maggie had announced, coming out and smiling at her sister and Quinn. "How was the party?"

"Excruciating", Quinn had replied at the same time Carrie had said,"Awful," and Maggie had laughed.

"That good."

"How was she tonight?"

"Very well behaved, barely cried at all," Maggie had advised them with a smile.

"Just like her mother at the Christmas party," Quinn had teased and had given a soft oof when Carrie elbowed him in the ribs.

He had walked and crouched down on the blanket with the girls. With great familiarity and ease, he had picked up the baby and sat down beside the girls, holding the baby comfortably in his arms.

"Are you coming here on Christmas Day, Uncle Peter?" Ruby had demanded of him.

"Yes, are you coming?" Josie had also wanted to know.

"Uh .." Quinn had started to respond. "I – "

"Do you have plans for Christmas, Peter?" Maggie had asked him. "I would have asked you earlier but I assumed that you had your plans with your own family."

There had been a slightly awkward silence. What was the right answer? Quinn didn't have any family and his Christmas this year would be spent the way he had spent previous Christmases – alone and eating takeout.

"You should come, Maggie always puts on a feast," Frank had spoken up very unexpectedly.

"We need more men to counter the females," Bill had told him with a grin.

"I – uh …" Quinn had clearly been at a loss, which was unusual for him. The baby had been pulling at his hair and gurgling her delight that one of her favourite people in the world was holding her. He had glanced questioningly at Carrie who had shrugged.

"If you don't have any other plans, you should come," she had told him off-handedly, packing up the baby's things to take home.

"Carrie – when are you going to name the baby?" Ruby had asked suddenly. 

There had been another long and awkward silence. Baby Mathison's birth certificate said just that … Baby Mathison, female. Father – unknown.

"As soon as your aunt comes up with a name, she'll name the baby," Maggie had told her daughter, making a 'shoosh' expression with her face.

"So – you coming?" Bill had questioned and Quinn, hesitating for a moment had then nodded.

"Yes. Thank you for the invitation," he had said politely.

He had put the baby into her capsule and carried her to his car as Carrie had walked beside him. As he had strapped the baby's capsule into the back seat with practised ease, Carrie had slid into the front passenger seat. "Sorry about that back there …if you don't want to come, you can just make an excuse."

"No, it would be nice," he had told her, starting up the engine. "I don’t have anywhere else to be."

"That's kind of sad. What about that ER nurse you were banging?"

"Carrie that was over a long time ago and it wasn't a Christmas lunch kind of deal anyway," he had told her. "If you don't want me to come – "

"It's not that," she had said quickly and then changed the topic.

When they had arrived back at her house, she had unlocked the door as Quinn carried the baby inside. She had watched as he had changed the baby's diaper, fed her and put her to bed all with a calm and gentle efficiency.

"You're good at that," she observed as he had pressed a kiss to the baby's forehead before straightening, turning on the baby monitor and walking with Carrie back downstairs.

"You sound surprised."

"Impressed," she said with a smile.

Now he was sitting on the sofa, accepting the soft drink she offered him and she curled up on the sofa. Her knees pressed into his thighs and he could have moved over to give her more room but he chose to stay where he was. Like the rest of the house, it was a room he knew well. Since Carrie's return from Tehran, he had spent many hours there and it had become a second home of sorts.

"How are you doing today, Carrie?" he asked her gently.

She thought about it for a moment and then nodded with a smile. "Good … very good actually," she said with a hint of surprise in her voice. For many months after Brody's death, she had gone to a place of darkness and it had been easy to wonder if the grief would always be that raw.

"Glad to hear it," he told her, his light eyes smiling at her. Over the last year, he had become more than just a trusted colleague. They were close friends now – a new and unfamiliar experience for both of them.

She bit her lip for a moment and he looked at her curiously "What's wrong?"

"I got you a Christmas present."

He looked startled. "You didn't have to do that."

"You bought the baby a present," she said, indicating the small pile of wrapped gifts that he had delivered one day.

"Of course I did."

"I was thinking of giving you your gift early."

"Sure," he said with a grin. "Whatever you want."

"OK." 

She left the room and came back with two neatly wrapped items. She hesitated for a moment.

"Changed your mind?" he questioned, looking mildly amused.

Finally she thrust them at him, looking sheepish. With definite anticipation, he unwrapped the first gift and his mouth twitched as he stared at the jar of extremely expensive olives.

"You said you like olives," she said with a hopeful expression on her face. 

"I do, I love olives," he assured her and she looked very relieved.

She handed him the other gift. When he unwrapped it, there was an envelope inside and a gift certificate hand-drawn and written by Carrie herself – dinner at a nearby Indian restaurant that he particularly liked. Included in the envelope was a copy of the menu.

"Thanks," he told her. "I didn't even know they did gift certificates."

"They don't, you'll have to bring me along to pay if you want to redeem it," she said a little apologetically.

"So your present to me is a date with you at the Indian restaurant?" he questioned.

"Not a date," she protested. "Geez Quinn, we've eaten there so many times."

"We usually get it to go," he pointed out referring to the times they had dropped by after picking up the baby to bring the food back to her house to eat while watching the news. 

"It's a stupid present," she mumbled, feeling very foolish and he laughed. 

"No Carrie, it's great. I really love my present," he told her.

"Well. Good. I'm glad," she told him awkwardly.

"Does that mean you want your present a week early as well?" he asked her and she looked at him with a scowl.

"No."

"Oh." He looked a bit disappointed. "I have a present for you," he told her. "It's been a long time since I've bought anyone a present though – outside of the work stuff …" That reminded him of something. "You'd better come with me for the last minute Christmas shopping – I don't know what to buy Ruby and Josie … Maggie, your father and Bill …"

"Shit, I haven't bought them anything yet either …" She stares at him. "Want to give joint gifts?" she suggested hopefully and he looked at her strangely.

"You don't think they'd find that a little odd?" he questioned her.

"Yeah, I guess," she muttered. "So where's my present?" she asked him abruptly and he stared at her again and his lips twitched in an unwilling smile.

He leaned down and reached for his messenger bag and pulled out a small brightly wrapped box with a red ribbon around it.

"You carry my present around with you?" she questioned. "What if you get robbed?"

"Just open it," he told her.

He watched as she unwrapped the gift and she made a sound of pleasure as she held up the gold chain, staring stared at the translucent amber pendant with a clover preserved inside it.

"Baltic amber," he told her. "Apparently it strengthens the human spirit and gives courage. You don't need that, but they also say that it contains succinic acid which is good for reducing stress."

Carrie stroked the amber with her finger tip and slanted a look at him. "Did you know that some people say that amber protects from madness?"

"I did not know that," Quinn replied truthfully. He took it from her and as she lifted her hair, he draped it around her throat and fastened the clasp, his fingers brushing against the warm skin of her neck lingeringly.

"Kind of makes my presents to you look like crap," she remarked, admiring the pendant.

"Not at all. I like my presents," he assured her. "… I haven't received a present since … a very long time."

"One day you're going to have to tell me your origin story, Quinn," she told him, staring at him narrowly.

"Surprised you don't know it already."

"I looked. Almost everything's redacted. Even your real name ... which might or might not be John…"

"That guy doesn't exist anymore anyway," Quinn said quietly, his eyes shadowed.

"And who are you now?"she asked him.

"The guy you see today. You know me," he assured her and she nodded. 

"I think so."

They were silent for a long time. He knew that for a long time, Carrie had been incapable of seeing anything except Nicholas Brody. After Brody's death, the preoccupied had continued and for reasons known only to him, he had continued to remain at her side – to support and assist. 

These days, he assumed that she had grown accustomed to his presence. She was quieter, more contemplative. Her revised duties at work were better for her and no one would have suspected that she needed medication to keep her chemically balanced. 

He had quit smoking on the proviso that she also maintained a healthier lifestyle. When he heard that regular exercise could assist with her mental health, he had insisted that they go jogging together every morning even though the first few days involved a great deal of cursing and abuse. He'd even bought a jogging stroller so that the baby could be incorporated into their exercise regimen.

"You know, the girls are right. The baby needs a name. She can't stay 'Baby Mathison' forever …"

Carrie swallowed hard. "I know," she told him, nodding emphatically. "I know. I really do know that and I do think about it." She started twisting her hands together, nodding, swallowing hard and visibly agitated. Quinn reached out and caught her hands in his and held them firmly.

"Breathe," he told her, stopping her hands from fluttering compulsively.

"I want _you_ to name her," Carrie blurted out unexpectedly and Quinn's light eyes widened in astonishment. His brows twitched together swiftly. Before he could say anything, she continued speaking rapidly. "You've been with us the whole way … came to the ultrasounds with me … went to those fucking useless birthing classes." 

There had been no one else to go. Maggie had a busy full time job and was looking after her two young daughters as well as her father. 

In the absence of anyone else, Quinn had found himself going along since he didn't have anything else to do and if he was honest – which he was – he wanted to help. 

"You were there for her birth… if you hadn't got me to the hospital in time you would have been the one to deliver her."

Her hand twitched convulsively in his. "I'm honoured, Carrie, but …"

"But …?" Her voice was tense and apprehensive and she tried to pull her hand out of his unsuccessfully. 

"No wait – listen to me …" he told her. "I'd love to name her and I'm really honoured that you want me to be involved in her life – and her name like that …"

"Goddamnit Quinn, will you just get to the fucking point?" she demanded impatiently, looking from his amused face down to her hand which was in his and back up to his face.

"You are … as always – charming," he told her. "If you'll let me finish, what I was trying to say was – I'd also like to be involved with her surname …"

Carrie gaped at him. Her eyes bulging in a familiar manner that was endearing if unflattering. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

"No," he said mildly and stood up and reached down to pick her up in his arms.

"What are you doing? Put me down."

"No," he replied and continued to walk with her towards the stairs.

"The baby – "

"- is asleep."

"I haven't said yes."

"We can talk about it afterwards."

"After what?" she demanded as he set her down on the bed and began taking off his clothes.

His mouth was hard and demanding on hers and she moaned and arched against him, pulling him closer.

"After I finish convincing you," he told her as Carrie swore under her breath and began pulling off her clothes.

*

Despite being the smallest member attending the Christmas party, little Frances Hope Quinn received more presents than anyone else in attendance.

**end**


End file.
